Page 30 of Highlander's Wild Lass
Eleanor raised her eyebrows. “Iguessye can say that I’m surprised. The Chief of Clan Moore actuallycaresfor a woman.”
Anthony squeezed his eyes shut and crushed his hand into a fist. “Please daenae mock me, Eleanor. She is frustratin’ and irritatin’, but…she is willin’ to fight tooth and nail for her family—and that is honorable.”
She smirked at him. “I do nae mock ye. I just find it…funny.”
“Funny?”
“Oh, aye.”
“How?” he said. “Yer the one who keeps pesterin’ me about settlin’ down.”
“Only because ye have a duty to the clan and our family to carry on the name, to ensure that the chiefship doesnae go to any of our beastly cousins.”
Anthony took up pacing the length of the elaborate Persian area rug that covered much of the hardwood flooring.
“Listen, brother. I ken ye to be a loner save only Sebastian as a true friend. What is funny is that ye have found a lass to keep yer attention for more than week. And—it’s difficult for me to admit this—but my life is a little less lonely now with George by my side.” She lowered her voice and continued, “While I am nae in love with him, we have kindled a great friendship and partnership to run this castle, this clan, and this new family we’re growin’.”
“That’s good to hear about ye and George. I did worry when ye two were wed. Ye were near tears walkin’ down the aisle.”
“Daenae change the subject, Anthony.”
“I wasnae tryin’ to, Eleanor.”
She sighed. “What I mean to say is, I think this is a good thing. Ye have time on yer hands, more time, and more privilege than I ever did. Just get to ken her before ye go blunderin’ in with another proposal.”
“That’s basically what Sebastian said,” he told her.
She laughed. “That’s no surprise. Sebastian has always had the better mind.”
Anthony’s eyes widened, a smirk playing on his mouth and clutching a hand over his heart. “Ye wound me!”
She laughed again, mollifying him with a wave of her hand. “And ye have always been the brawn of ye two. With yer muscles and yer expert swordplay.”
“Aye,” Anthony said, jutting out his chin proudly. “That’s much better.”
Eleanor placed her teacup back onto the tea table and stood. “Come,” she said, still smiling. “Let’s see if breakfast is ready.”
* * *
They finally reached Inverness just as the sun peaked in the sky, just like Jacob said. They weaved their way through the cobbled streets toward the port and the McLean Distillery Storehouse nestled along the edge of the River Ness.
Celestia could see the tall pagoda-shaped chimneys rising into the sky. She inhaled deeply. The key felt heavier and heavier in her pocket as the horses pulled them closer. Would she truly be able to run and sustain this business?
The horses slowed and soon stopped altogether. The storefront was only one story with the main entrance right on the streets of Inverness, but the rest of the distillery was attached just beyond and spread out on near a quarter of an acre. There was the storeroom just beyond the back door of the storefront, partially underground, where they kept the casks until they matured. Beyond that were the buildings that kept all the machines needed to make good Scottish whisky.
“Here we are!” Jacob said, turning towards Celestia with a wide grin. “Ye three go ahead, I’ll take the horses round back to the stable. Make sure they’re watered and fed.”
The twins jumped out of the cart while Celestia carefully climbed down, making sure her heeled boot didn’t catch awkwardly between the cobblestones.
She grabbed onto the key in her pocket and pulled it out as she made her way from the street to the wooden door. The plaque beside it read:
McLean Distillery & Storehouse
Inverness, Scotland
Est. 1677
Celestia traced the raised script on the plaque before plunging the key into the lock. After a loud metallic noise, Celestia pushed open the heavy door. She was hit with the familiar nostalgic scents of oak and sweet malt.
